Avenal State Prison, Avenal, California
After more than a year of appeals made to the California Department of Corrections and Rehabilitation (CDCR) – each couched in embarrassingly pathetic genuflections -- my fellow missionary, Mitch Paskin, and I are scheduled to drive tomorrow from Atascadero to Avenal State Prison, out on the western perimeter of the great San Joaquin Valley. There, it has been promised, we’re scheduled to begin a tortuous initiation process that could, if we’re able to avoid serious missteps, privilege us to one day enter the prison as unescorted “volunteer clergy.”
We’re Zen Buddhists, you see, and obviously unhinged. Together, back in the way distant past, we hatched an absurd notion that the distressed prisoners of Avenal (It’s reported to be the most overcrowded prison in California) desperately seek enlightenment…and we, the two of us, have been specially ordained to bring it to them.
That last is the absurd, nay, the truly looney part. But trust me, this whole affair is sure to get much loonier.
Since I’ve spent the last few years helping two actual Zen priests bring something approaching enlightenment to the benighted prisoners of California Men’s Colony, here in San Luis Obispo County, I thought I’d be wise to warn Mitch about a possible initial pitfall at Avenal -- his attire.
“Make sure you dress according to the rules,” I tell him.
I thought he might remember having studied the dress code, which was spelled out in the lengthy application forms we had both completed and submitted months and months back.
“Rules? What rules?”
Oh, he’s in for a terrible awakening.
“Don’t you remember? You can’t wear blue jeans. Blue shirts, either. No denim at all, in fact. You won’t get through the gate dressed like that. It’s what the prisoners wear. You want to be mistaken for a prisoner once you get inside?
“Shit. That’s the only kinda clothes I ever wear.”
“No green, either. That’s what the guards wear -- green uniforms. I always wear black. Totally black. Or brown. Totally brown. Easier that way….Oh, and bring your rakusu.”
“Rakusu? No way. I’m not gonna wear that”
“Ya. It’s a pain. But as you can see, outfits are real important. We need these guys to believe we’re the real McCoy. Just bring it. We can talk about all this on the road.”
Mitch wields the Sword of Prajna, minus rakusu.
